Hurricane
by LoneWolfe2
Summary: Song-fic. "Hurricane" by 30 Seconds to Mars. This is the end of one tribute's fight.


**Hello people. I was listening to 'Hurricane' by 30 Seconds to Mars when this scene popped into my head. It's not what I usually write about. It's the death of a tribute in the 67th Hunger Games. Flames, compliments, whatevers accepted.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games series or the song 'Hurricane' by 30 Seconds to Mars.**

** - LoneWolfe2**

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><p><strong><em>Hurricane<em>**

_No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave  
>No matter how many breaths that you took, you still couldn't breathe<br>_

I tried to breath in the thick, smoky air, but I was so choked with the lack of oxygen that I ended up falling onto my hands and knees, gagging. Without thinking, I knew that this was the end of me. I was going to die here. In the arena. In the 67th Hunger Games. I would die surrounded by flames that licked my already burned skin.

_No matter how many nights that you lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain  
>Where did you go? Where did you go? Where did you go?<br>As days go by, the night's on fire  
><em>

I collapsed onto my back. In an instant, the flames disappeared and the quiet dripping of rain hit the leaves of the bushes next to me and the trees above me. Fire by day, rain by night. It was a continuous loop. And tonight, while I was waiting for my ally to return from a raid, the fire had found me. Now the acid rain was making me melt.

_Tell me would you kill to save a life?  
>Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?<br>Crash, crash, burn, let it all burn  
>This hurricane's chasing us all underground<br>_

A hurricane of fire and water was driving us all together. To the golden Cornucopia that they promised held the survival gear that all 24 of us desperately needed. But now there were just the three of us. Me, my ally Jake, and another girl, Sapphire.

I wouldn't kill to save me. I refused. Jake did. He would make sure I wasn't watching, and take done the advancing enemy. He wasn't cold-blooded, nor passionate. He was...caring. He knew the line between life and death.

_No matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget  
>No matter how many lives I live, I will never regret<br>There is a fire inside and it started a riot about to explode into flames  
>Where is your god? Where is your god? Where is your god?<br>_

I will never regret the way I lived my life. It was a short fifteen years. But I had lived it happily, with family and love and friends. But my death would destroy them all. My sister would be depressed to the point of no return. My father would turn into a zombie. My mother would be stricken with grief and guilt until she died. I would make them relive it all, just like when my older sister was reaped, and when she died in the games.

Closing my eyes to the rain that was now poison, I released a huff of breath. It was black air that was pulled from my lungs. Like ash. My arms were lying across my pathetically skinny stomach covered by the tatters of a black shirt and my chicken legs were spread out, the black skin tight pants ripped. My head was turned to the right, so my cheek was pressed against the cool leaves of the forest floor. But the trees offered no protection from the poison.

I could almost hear their taunting voices. "Where is your god? Where is your god? Save her if your there!"

That's what they screamed as I was lead onto the train.

_Do you really want?  
>Do you really want me?<br>Do you really want me dead?  
>Or alive to torture for my sins?<em>

Do they really want me? Or was I just always a burden to them? My parents were never really parents. I just like to remember how they were before the Hunger Games began to devastate us. When my sister died, when I was seven, I remember them crying and screaming and fighting for weeks upon weeks to no end. Many other people, at school or the market or just around, wanted me dead and gone. I don't know why and probably never get the chance to learn their reasons.

_Do you really want?  
>Do you really want me?<br>Do you really want me dead?  
>Or alive to live the lie?<br>_  
>I could feel the blood dripping. It seeped from teardrop sized wounds all over my arms and legs. My real tears made the cuts on my face sting. It was over. No one wanted me. Why fight any longer?<p>

_Tell me would you kill to save a life?  
>Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?<br>Crash, crash, burn, let it all burn  
>This hurricane's chasing us all underground<br>_

Yes, a hurricane. This is what it is. A huge storm bringing death. I could hear shouting. It was a deep voice, and it was shouting my name. He sounded urgent...and scared.

_The promises we made were not enough  
>The prayers that we prayed were like a drug<br>The secrets that we sold were never known  
>The love we had, the love we had, we had to let it go.<em>

"Lucy!"

I felt strong arms wind around my shoulders and under my knees. I was lifted off the cold, sweet ground and pressed against a warm chest. I just stared ahead. Rain was coming down in sheets now, drenching me. I looked up to see shaggy black hair framing a heart shaped face, bright blue, but sunken eyes, and a mouth with thin lips. Jake.

"Why didn't you run? You idiot!" He screamed at me, putting me down on the ground underneath a tent made of sturdy fabric. I felt his hands over my heart, then he pushed down. Once, twice, three times. Then he kissed me. But it wasn't a kiss. He was trying desperately to blow air into my deflated lungs. The pain was agonizing. It felt like I was exploding with fire inside. My arms and legs were numb, and the pain inside my chest was aching. I was dying and he couldn't save me. The combination of the flames in my lungs, drying out my skin, and the poison rain had added up to me bleeding. On the outside and the inside.

"Lucy, don't leave me! Breathe! Come on!"

My dark eyes stared up at nothing. The only thing I could see was his face, which was twisted with pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks. This is the first time I've ever seen him cry.

_Tell me would you kill to save a life?  
>Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?<br>Crash, crash, burn, let it all burn  
>This hurricane's chasing us all underground<em>.

"Tell me. Would you kill to save a life?"

"It depends on the life I'm saving, and the life that I'm taking."

Those were the last words were said to each other before the reaping. Before we were separated into the boys and girls, only to meet again on the stage. With no volunteers, even though everyone knew we were closer than two people could ever be. And we couldn't stand the thought of either of us dying.

_Do you really want?  
>Do you really want me?<br>Do you really want me dead?  
>Or alive to torture for my sins?<em>

One, two, three. Breathe. One, two, three. Breathe.

"Lucy!" He screamed again, his words shaking with terror. His tears landed on my face. "Lucy! Don't go! Please!"

_Do you really want?  
>Do you really want me?<br>Do you really want me dead?  
>Or alive to live the lie?<em>

One, two, three. Breathe. One, two, three. Breathe. One, two, three...

Boom.

I was gone.

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><p>Lucy Conrad.<p>

Age 15.

Black haired and silver eyed.

Died in the 67th Hunger Games in the arms of Jake Kingslay.

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><p><strong>Read and Review!<strong>


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